


A Whole New Level

by Sherlock1110, sherlockian4evr



Series: The Detective, His Doctor, His Brother and His DCI [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Plug, BDSM, Bondage, Caning, Cock Cages, Dom!John, Dominance, Enemas, Gags, Ginger - Freeform, Harness, Human Footrest, Kneeling, M/M, Nipple Play, Riding Crops, Service, Slapping, Sub!Mycroft, Submission, Switch!Greg, Switch!Mycroft, corner time, crawling, dom!Greg, grapes, press ups, sub!Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 11:34:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8284379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockian4evr/pseuds/sherlockian4evr
Summary: John and Greg introduce Master/Slave play. How do Sherlock and Mycroft take to it?





	1. A Matched Set

Sherlock's eyebrow rose in surprise as he and John entered Mycroft and Greg's house. He hadn't expected to find his brother kneeling... again. Mycroft had truly developed a taste for the submissive side of things.

"Well I'm pleased to say he's stayed away from trouble," Greg said, grinning.

"I'm glad I can agree." He patted Sherlock on the back of the neck. "Go and join your brother, boy."

The detective went to his knees and crawled over to his brother and knelt up beside him. "Hello, brother-mine," he whispered. "Whose idea was it to get together and play?"

Mycroft shrugged. "I don't really care. As long as it is play and not punishment. I can't stand to see another grain of rice."

Sherlock chuckled softly.

Greg turned his gaze towards the two subs.

"Hush," the government official warned. "Gregory has been uncommonly strict of late."

Sherlock frowned. "How do you mean?"

"Just… more pedantic."

"Like, kneeling all the time? Not just when he's in a playful mood?"

Mycroft's frown matched his brother's. "How did you… John's been the same?"

The younger brother nodded. "I'm not entirely adverse to it."

"Did anyone say you could talk?" John asked in a dangerous tone of voice. "No, I didn't think so. 20 pushups, Sherlock."

"You too, Myc," the DCI agreed.

Sherlock blinked stupidly for a moment. "But, John-"

All the doctor did was take a threatening step forward.

Sherlock found himself laid out on his chest beside his brother in seconds.

"Get to it," Greg ordered, sharply.

"An extra 10, Sherlock, for answering back."

After Mycroft finished his pushups, he resumed his kneeling position and watched as his brother completed his own set. It seemed their Doms were of an accord when it came to how they were going to treat their subs.

Sherlock groaned on his last one and pushed himself back to his knees.

"Something to say, Sherlock?"

He nodded. But once again John stepped forward.

"Yes, sir."

"Go on, then."

"I apologise, sir."

"Hmm." John looked deep into his eyes. "Isn't that nice. How about you, Mycroft?"

"I apologise for speaking out of turn, sir."

The DCI stepped forward and slipped his hand into Mycroft's hair, it had grown remarkably in a few months.

Sherlock nearly commented but knew it would do no good for this new Dom John.

John petted Sherlock's curls for a moment, then his look turned stern. "You can take off your clothes now. You're not permitted to cover yourself in any way until I give you my permission."

"Yes, sir," Sherlock quickly struggled out of his Belstaff and his suit jacket soon followed.

"You too, Mycroft," the DCI ordered. "And don't keep me waiting."

The government official did the same, being careful to stay on his knees. That was one of Greg's new rules, he had to remain on his knees during play time. In fact he had to stay on his knees always. At least until they swapped over again. If they swapped over again.

When there was two piles of clothes beside the Holmeses, John and Greg smirked approvingly, not letting the pair see.

It had been different, being so strict with their subs, but John and Greg had discussed it privately and had agreed it was for the best. Both Sherlock and Mycroft had responded better than expected. That wasn't to say there hadn't been problems, especially for the younger Holmes.

Greg wondered what would happen when they swapped back again, if they ever did. For some reason, this time around he didn't want to sub and Mycroft didn't want to Dom. Maybe they were just both scared of what John would do to them. Then again, maybe they simply liked the roles they were in for now. The DCI tweaked one of Mycroft's nipples. "Go get all of us drinks, Mycroft. No alcohol. I don't want to risk it with what I plan to do to you."

"Yes, sir."

Mycroft quickly hurried out of the room, feeling a little sorry for his brother being left with two power hungry Doms.

John sat on the edge of a chair and stared at Sherlock. Greg did the same.

"What shall we do with him?" the doctor asked. "He's begging to be used."

The DCI paced toward the kneeling detective and ran his hand over his shoulders.

"Hmm…"

Before they could decide what to do with him Mycroft returned, a tray in hand.

The fact the Mycroft had achieved his task, let alone so swiftly, was quite impressive, considering he'd done it all whilst on his knees.

Greg took the tray and kissed his sub as a reward for a job well done.

"Now, get back over there."

Mycroft shuffled the small distance between the table and his brother.

John was already sorting out a straw in Sherlock's glass and he held it out to him.

The detective wasn't thirsty, but he took a sip from the straw after a cautiously voiced, "Thank you."

John petted his curls with his free hand. "Good boy. Drink it all."

The almost protest cut off as he remembered the sort of mood the Dom was in.

"Yes, sir." He sucked on the straw again.

"Do we want to play straight away, or just enjoy the fact we have 2 willing slaves for the day?" Greg asked.

"Hmm, it would be rather nice to relax and let them do all the work. We could put on one of the movies they always complain about." John nodded, deciding.

That, at least, made the brothers share glances.

"Problem?"

"No, sir," Sherlock whispered.

"What about you?" The DCI added at his own sub.

"No, sir."

"Good."

"Ok, boy, deduce what movie Greg and I want to watch and put it on. Mycroft, we'll need popcorn and the lights should be dimmed. Oh, and you two, we'll both need something to rest our feet on."

They both understood what that meant but nodded. Mycroft crawled back out to the kitchen and Sherlock went over to the DVD player and the rack beside it.

When the movie was in and the popcorn was ready, Sherlock and Mycroft crawled over to serve as human footstools. Both Doms toed off their shoes and propped their feet up, content.

If only the two subs could talk to each other, it wouldn't be so damn boring.

Sherlock pressed his forehead to the floor and grumbled.

John responded by giving his arse a warning shove with his foot.

In response, he swore silently because he knew he'd pay for that slip up later.

Sherlock had actually thought ahead, not just for himself but his brother too. Films ranged from 90 minutes to 190 so he made sure to pick a film he knew they would enjoy but as short as possible.

About the time that Mycroft's arse and knees had gone hopelessly numb, the end credits appeared on the screen. He couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped him.

Greg rocked him back and forward for a moment before standing up and stretching.

"You may stand, boys, to stretch," he gave them permission.

"I suppose we should let them use the loo, too."

Both subs stood. Mycroft offered a crisp, "Thank you, sirs."

Sherlock's was cut off mid-sentence by a leg cramp. The detective made a face as he hopped around in pain. John motioned him over and started massaging the offending muscle. "I've told you, you need more potassium in your diet. Greg, do you have any bananas?"

John knew just how much the detective disliked bananas and was most surprised when his boy kept his mouth shut.

"Sure, they're in the fridge. Toilet, now Mycroft before I lock your pretty dick away and stop you using it."

Sherlock hopped/walked with John to the kitchen. He frowned as the doctor fetched a banana and peeled it. "Sir-"

"Potassium, boy."

The detective opened his mouth and let John feed it to him one bite at a time. That, at least, made it tolerable, despite the disgusting taste.

"If your brother, who is 7 years older than you can kneel like that do you not think its a tad embarrassing?"

Sherlock's head ducked as John chucked the peel in the bin.

John pulled his boy along, back to the living room where Mycroft had returned from the bathroom. "Your turn to pee, boy." He gave Sherlock a shove in that direction. "And don't take all day."

The detective rolled his eyes and headed to the bathroom.

"Come here, pet," Greg ordered.

Mycroft crawled and knelt beside him. There was soon a hand in his hair and his head was being tugged about. "What to do with you now, slave?"

'Slave'. The use of that word made the government official tremble. He chided himself, it was simply a word and this was play, but it indicated a different level of play. "I don't know, m... master," he tried, using what seemed to be the appropriate form of address.

Greg grinned.

"Knees," John barked behind them.

The thud of Sherlock dropping to the floor told the others he had returned from the loo.

"We were just discussing what to do with you, slave." He wanted to see what his own sub's response would be.

Sherlock looked at John with his mouth hanging open. They'd never played master/slave. He was John's boy or pet, not his slave. He wasn't anyone's slave!

John let his eyebrow raise questioningly. It was clearly an opportunity to let Sherlock safe word and allow them to play how they did before without the repercussions of losing their play time all together.

After a moments thought, Sherlock crawled toward him, nodding slightly. It was worth a try.

"You know, I don't think these are just any slaves," Greg noted. "These look like pleasure slaves of the old roman empire. Only something's missing."

"Shouldn't they be all oily and glistening?"

"No. They should be in the bedroom… Or the playroom."

"Playroom, slaves. Go!" John yelled.

The two men scurried out of the room, clearly in a hurry.

"Oh, Christ!" The DCI doubled over in laughter as soon as it was safe to do so. "Why haven't we done this before?"

"I don't know, mate, but let's get in there and enjoy it."

John shoved the still laughing older Dom towards the stairs.

"I think you may be stuck with permanent sub Mycroft now, by the way."

Greg stopped and went down on one knee. "Oh, John, will you be my Dom?" At the look on the doctor's face, Greg leapt to his feet, holding his hands out in front of him. "Not today. Really."

"The next time you tease me like that, I'll have you over my knee for a spanking."

Greg laughed and skipped a few steps ahead so John couldn't whack the back of his head.

"You bloody would as well."

"Damn right, I would!"

In the playroom, the two subs were knelt, waiting for their Dom's. The matched set of Holmses looked lovely and in need of being used hard and well.


	2. 15 Steps Behind

Both Holmeses had their hands clasped in front of them. Well that just wouldn't do. 

"Hands behind your backs," Greg ordered, getting compliance immediately. He snatched the leather hand and ankle cuffs from the wall and threw one set towards John. 

"They don't need to be tied to anything, but they need to look owned."

The doctor agreed completely. He placed the cuffs on Sherlock's wrists and ankles, admiring how nice the black leather looked against his slave's pale skin. "I think you need a collar as well, slave." He fetched one and tossed a second one to Greg.

"Orange?" Greg asked as he watched the doctor buckle it up.

"He's less likely to sulk."

Greg laughed. "A sulking slave would be a naughty one."

"Now, slave," John hooked his finger in Sherlock's collar and pulled, "demonstrate how well versed you are in the art of kissing. And you may start with my toes."

"Yes, sir."

"Master." John slapped him. 

"But- you said you didn't like-"

John slapped him again. "That's two cock ups in the last hour, slave. You'll be punished for it, but for now, start on my toes."

Sherlock looked at the toes in front of him and started kissing them. He began with John's smallest toe, pressing his lips to it, then sucking it into his mouth. When he swirled his tongue around it, the Dom pulled his foot away. "I said kiss it. Not fellate it. That tickled!" He kicked Sherlock away. "You can't even obey a simple order."

"But, sir-"

"Shut up," John ordered. "Get into the press up position."

"But-"

"That's 4 things I need to punish you for, slave! Do not make me repeat myself."

The younger of the two subs got into position. John placed a few weights from the corner on his back. "There we go. Get started. I'll tell you when to stop "

Sherlock tilted his head to the side to glance at Mycroft. He had his hands behind his head as he kissed his own Dom's feet. 

"You see, Mycroft is a good slave."

"I'm sorry, sir," Sherlock tried. 

John put another weight on his back. 

"I meant, master. I'm sorry, master."

Sherlock's muscles were soon aching and he trembled with every drop and lift. "Master…" He pushed himself up. "Please…" He could tell he was about to give out.

John watched his sub closely. After two more press ups, he called a halt. "Enough."

Sherlock collapsed in a heap. 

"Something to say?"

"Thank you, master."

"What for?"

"Letting me stop, master."

He watched the way Sherlock tried to push himself up, but couldn't quite manage it. 

"You have 5 minutes to recover."

Mycroft was kissing Greg's fingers by now, giving each knuckle individual attention.

"If only we had grapes," John mused aloud, "I could have my slave feed them to me."

Voice muffled from where he lay face down, Sherlock commented, "We do, master. Mycroft always has grapes on hand."

"Is that true, Holmes One?"

Mycroft looked up. "Yes, master."

"Fetch them then, boy!" Greg snapped, pushing him away.

Mycroft crawled to the kitchen and fetched the grapes along with two bowls, one for each of the Doms. Back in the living room, he divided the huge bunch into two and put one into each bowl.

"What are you waiting on, slaves?" Greg asked. "Start feeding them to us."

"We need chairs," John cleared his throat awkwardly. 

"Oh yeah. Holmes Two, your break has been long enough, fetch the fold up chairs from the cupboard."

"Why am I Holmes Two?" He winced as John kicked his arse. 

"Now," he hissed. "Or are you after a decent thrashing?"

"No, master!" Sherlock headed to the cupboard immediately. He knew what John meant by thrashing, that blasted flogger!

The chairs from the cupboard weren't common fold up chairs. These chairs were nothing but luxury. Once unfolded, John and Greg were able to recline comfortably like they were royalty. Given the circumstances and the way the Holmeses were being treated they pretty much were royalty. 

"Kneel," John ordered once Sherlock had broken off all the grapes from the bunch.

He leaned forward and kissed his sub, wanting to taste his lips. When he broke off, he pulled Sherlock close. "Can you deduce what I want now, slave?"

Sherlock blinked dopily, his brain was about 15 steps behind. 

John grinned. "I think I broke my boy."

Greg glanced over at them and saw the way Sherlock was looking. "You definitely did."

Then John remembered their new 'rules'. "I asked you a question boy!"

"I... Master, I don't-" Sherlock frowned in concentration as he struggled to clear his mind. "You want the rope, Master."

"Nope."

Sherlock blinked again. 

"I want you to feed me the grapes you have in your hands."

He stared down at the bowl. "Oh, yeah."

"I think you need a while in the corner, slave."

The detective started crawling towards the corner, vaguely aware that Greg was trying to stifle his laughter, but not knowing why.

"Slave," John called. "You can put the bowl of grapes down on the table first."

"Yes, master." He put the bowl down where he was and continued his journey to the wall. 

"I think he needs resetting." Greg glanced down at his old slave. "Mine needs to hurry up and feed me."

Mycroft moved closer to his Dom so he could feed him one grape at a time. Greg tormented him by sucking on his fingers. "Mm, good job, slave," he said between grapes. It didn't take long for the bowl to empty. 

John glanced at Sherlock in the corner, it must have been 15 minutes by now. 

"Sherlock, turn around," the doctor ordered sternly.

The detective turned on the spot, eager to get out of the corner. He started to crawl forward, but John held up his hand and told him to stop.

"I didn't tell you to leave the corner, slave."

Sherlock reversed quickly leaning back against the wall. 

"Lie down and give me 20 for disobeying me."

He bent down and laid himself flat.

John rather enjoyed watching Sherlock as he performed his press ups. They made his muscles stand out and ripple in the most enticing fashion. Greg seemed to appreciate it too.

"Alright, enough. Get over here."

Groaning as he pushed himself to his knees, Sherlock began to crawl across the room, gathering the grapes as he went, despite the fact John didn't seem to want them now.

Actually, John did want them, but not to eat himself. He took the bowl from his sub and gestured for Sherlock to back away. "Catch, slave," the doctor said as he tossed a grape through the air for the detective to catch in his mouth.

He caught it easily. 

John continued to throw them until he dropped the first one. 

"Fetch," the blond ordered. 

Sherlock scampered after the grape, locating it by John's foot.

The doctor bent and snagged him by the curls and brought him up to take the grape from his lips with a kiss. After he had swallowed the grape, he bit at Sherlock's lip and murmured, "I'll have to punish you for missing that one."

"Yes, sir," he replied dopily.

Sherlock was caught completely off guard when John slapped him. 

"Master, I meant master, honest."

"Of course you did." John grabbed him by the curls and stood. "I'm taking this one to the play room. Coming?"

"Yeah, we'll come along." Greg stood and motioned to Mycroft to crawl along in front of him.

Mycroft felt a slight resentment towards his brother who was currently stood. His own knees were aching and yet his younger brother got to stand up and walk.

Greg couldn't help but admire the view as he followed his sub to the playroom. Mycroft's arse wriggled quite nicely before him; however, it was disappointingly bare of stripes. The DCI decided he would have to remedy that before the evening was over.

Mycroft was glad to see his brother on his hands and knees when himself and his Dom entered the playroom. John was nudging his sub's arse with his toe. After a particularly rough nudge, Sherlock fell forward on his elbows so that his arse was stuck up in the air.

John barked out, "Stay! Don't move a muscle."

Sherlock flinched, an involuntary reaction. 

"I said 'don't move'!" The doctor yelled down at him. 

Greg kicked his sub's white arse. "Go and join your brother."

Mycroft scrambled across the floor and took his position by his brother, arse in the air. He could feel both of the Doms looking at them from behind. The longer it lasted, the more nervous he became. He watched Sherlock open his mouth to talk to him but seem to change his mind. He was more than glad he changed his mind. Punishment from these two when they were in this state of mind would not be enjoyable. He'd found out a while ago that Greg knew exactly how to punish him in a way he didn't like. He wouldn't underestimate him again.

Mycroft tracked his Dom's location as Greg walked around the room. He didn't see what he picked up and he didn't dare deduce it. It wasn't until the DI started playing with his hole that Mycroft had an idea of what to expect.

The butt plug that was eased in didn't come as a surprise, but the mass of liquid that flooded into him afterwards did.

He grunted in surprise and he tried to move forward; to escape it.

"Slave!" Greg barked. "Do I have to restrain you?"

"No, master." It was incredibly hard not to shift, but the government official managed it. Just.

It wasn't just water Greg was filling him with, it was soapy, it made it even harder to remain still. 

"Master-" 

"Shut it," Greg ordered sharply. "You've still got another bag to go." The DCI knew he could take it, he had taken more in the past.

Towards the end of the second bag, Mycroft was straining. Sweat had broken out along his forehead and he was muttering under his breath. He gave a start when John placed his hand under his chin and tilted his head up.

"Hush, Myc. You really don't want Greg to hear what you're saying."

"Why not?" He snarled, glancing over at his brother, who was merely knelt there, no enema bags in sight. He knew instantly he had made a massive mistake, he also knew there was no way he could dig himself out of it either.

John released Mycroft's chin and slapped him hard. "Slaves should watch their tongues. Greg, I'm disappointed in you. I thought your slave would be better behaved than this."

Mycroft stared down at the floor, attitude like that was bad at anytime, but with the mood the two Doms were in? He was in trouble.

Greg didn't speak, he just squeezed the remaining soapy water from the bag and replaced the plug in his hole with something bigger. He grunted and bit into his arm to stop himself complaining more. 

The DCI looked over at the unimpressed look on the other Dom's face. "Now I'll deal with it."

Sherlock shivered. He liked being pushed to his limits, but it was always difficult. He had a feeling he would be pushed right to the edge tonight. They both would.


	3. So Close

John turned his dark blue eyes on Sherlock and the sub shivered. "As for you. Do you have anything to say?"

"No, master."

"Good." He leant down and pushed his face into the floor. "You dont get the pleasure of watching Mycroft get what's coming to him."

Honestly, Sherlock didn't want to see it, but he knew the chances of an enema were highly likely especially as it had made Mycroft slip up.

The elder Holmes felt like his insides were turning inside out as they cramped. He wanted to curl up on the floor, but didn't.

"Crawl to the bathroom, slave," Greg said as he nudged the plug in Mycroft's hole.

Sherlock turned his head to watch his brother go.

John noticed a tad too late and slapped him. "You want your insides nice and clean too, boy?" He barked down at his disobedient sub.

Sherlock knew whatever he said it was going to happen anyway.

"For disobeying me and for not answering me that's an extra 10 minutes longer than he had."

The sub swallowed his groan knowing that would only earn him even more time. He even managed to remain still when John inserted a nozzle into his hole a few minutes later. John also set the water to a slower speed. Sherlock realised immediately what his Dom was up to. Clever, really, it made the 10 minutes more like 20.

Mycroft came crawling back with Greg walking behind him. Every foot or so, the DCI kicked him on the arse. "I'm so very disappointed in you, letting John down with your filthy mouth."

"I'm sorry, master," Mycroft replied quickly.

Greg kicked him again. "Shut up and get back in position. I'm going to fill you up again, maybe that will make you control your tongue."

Mycroft's mind blanked for a moment. Surely Greg was joking.

The Dom kicked him again. "Move."

Still shocked, the sub crawled over and took his position by his brother who had his head down and was panting in pain.

The feel of the same plug in Mycroft's arse as before told him Greg hadn't been joking. He groaned, why hadn't he kept his mouth shut? He wasn't Sherlock.

"You've got 8 minutes left," John said from where he sat across the room.

By now, Sherlock was trembling, struggling to remain upright. His whole world had been reduced to the struggle to breathe through the pain and to listen for John's calm voice counting off the time. He wanted to beg, but refused to do it. It wouldn't do him any good and might get him into more trouble.

It wasn't long before Mycroft joined him in such a state. trembling and shaking and not able to do anything but think of what he had done wrong in order for Greg to put him through this a second time.

After the prescribed 10 minutes, John snapped a leash to Sherlock's collar and led him to the loo. That left the elder Holmes to struggle on his own. Greg didn't count down the time remaining. In fact he hadn't specified how long Mycroft would have to wait and that fact was playing with the government official's mind.

Every time they played, Mycroft realised even more what a special Dom Greg was. Like John, he knew just how to handle not only one Holmes, but both of them.

"I'm sorry, sir," Mycroft panted after a while. He wished that, if this was to continue, Greg would at least touch him, steady him. He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold out without collapsing and begging for relief.

Greg paced towards his sub and Mycroft tensed at the footsteps, happy he was going to get some attention. The DCI shoved his hand into his hair and yanked his head back. "Not acceptable!" Greg snarled. "You know the way things work now, boy."

The government official's eyes watery and he heard himself saying, "Sorry, sir. Sorry. Sorry." He was going to break and safe word at any moment and he didn't want to do that. He wanted to be on top of it all.

"Go!" The DCI snapped, pointing to the bathroom.

Mycroft held back his safe word. Through an unspoken bond he and his little brother had agreed to this new arrangement; the strictness and the new rules. No one said it had to stay permanently, but maybe it would do them good.

He returned from the bathroom to see Sherlock now knelt in the corner. "Here," Greg ordered sharply, pointing at the floor in front of him.

Panting, Mycroft knelt up where his Dom had pointed. His fists were clenched so tight that his fingernails were digging into his palms.

"What do you think, Greg?" John asked with his arms crossed over his chest.

"I think Mycroft has forgotten his place."

The sub dropped his head. "No, sir, no I haven't-"

Greg copied the blond Dom and folded his own arms. "Master."

Mycroft's head snapped up. Damn! He was so stupid and self-centred. How could he have forgotten-

"Go and join your brother in the corner. You won't get much out of him the way he's gagged. I'll be gagging you too in a minute."

"Yes, master," he whispered, crawling over to the corner and to Sherlock.

The DCI watched him straighten up next to his brother. That second enema had been a test, he knew Mycroft had been close to safe wording, he had just wanted to know if he trusted him enough or if he wanted to continue to try the new way.

Sherlock was glad to be gagged. At least that way he couldn't get himself in further trouble like his brother seemed to keep doing.

John walked over and stood just in front of his slave. He toed his cock idly as he thought. "Arms over your head and keep them there."

"And turn around," he added. "You, stay where you are, I don't think your Dom wants to see anything but the back of your head for a while."

"Yes, master," Mycroft replied as the doctor clipped him on the back of his head.

John knew his own sub wouldn't be able to keep his mouth shut if he ungagged him so he left him where he was, his hands held up.

Mycroft was still recovering, so it caught him off guard when Greg forced a gag into his mouth. It was a large, dildo shaped gag that filled his mouth completely. He puffed out a breath around it as his Dom tightened the buckle, seating it firmly in place.

He should have known it was coming, but it appeared his deductive skills were out of order at the moment. The first time it had happened was when he had had to move rice from one bowl to the other for ages. He let his head droop forward as much as the gag would allow and settled for listening to whatever happened to Sherlock.

As Greg was heading back to the chairs, he grasped Sherlock's curls and started to drag him. The detective let out a huff of surprise through his nose as he scrambled to get his arms and legs under him. It was futile, though, as the DCI dragged him to his destination far too fast.

"Lay over the chair," Greg ordered. "I want to perform an experiment. It involves your bollocks and a pair of nipple clamps."

Sherlock froze. This wouldn't be comfortable. Not even in the slightest.

"I told you to keep your hands above your head," John ordered from where he stood inches behind Mycroft.

Sherlock slipped his hands behind his neck, making himself uncomfortable before they even started. He distantly wondered why he was over the other side of the room behind his brother.

John rested his hands on Mycroft's shoulders, then bent to whisper in his ear. "You're going to regret disappointing me." The Dom straightened and went to fetch a humbler. When he came back, he had it locked onto Mycroft in short order.

It made Mycroft double over, his balls tugged painfully behind him. He wouldn't be able to get off is knees even if he wanted to.

"I'm sure you enjoyed the video of my sub in the humbler. You remember, when he trashed your secret playroom? He had an awful lot of fun cleaning that up. Now, your Dom doesn't want to see your face but you can't stay in the corner all night so…" he pulled a full hood from his pocket. "Compromise."

Mycroft's eyes went wide at the sight of it, but he didn't snap his fingers to safe word. As darkness enveloped him, he reminded himself to breathe. He'd worn a similar mask before, just to see what it was like, but only briefly and never whilst under someone else's control.

He found himself knowing that he trusted these two men implicitly. They wouldn't push the boundaries they had set despite the regime change. He crawled behind John, after the younger man had snapped a leash to the collar and tugged.

Sherlock's arms were tiring, held as they were in their awkward position. In addition, the nipple clamps that the DCI had placed on his bollocks were biting into them viciously. Every now and again, Greg gave them a tug by pulling on their chain. He barely noticed when John walked up beside him with his brother on a leash.


	4. Gorgeous

John grinned at the brothers. "Back up," John ordered until Mycroft was knelt in front of his brother, his bollocks pulled back next to his mouth. "Lick," John ordered, grabbing Sherlock's wrists and pulling them down behind him to cuff them there.

"And bite," Greg added, you haven't made up for disappointing John yet, Mycroft. Your brother biting your bollocks is your way of doing so."

The government official groaned. He couldn't see, couldn't stand and couldn't speak. He felt completely debased and at his Doms' mercy. It was the most helpless they had ever made him feel and it was liberating. At the first tentative touch of Sherlock's tongue to his bollocks, he hung his head and moaned.

John covered his mouth to stop from laughing and stepped aside. He swapped places with the DCI and added a weight to the chains hanging from Sherlock's bollocks. A result of which was the detective biting down on Mycroft's own balls, rather harder than he had intended.

The elder Holmes let out a howl around the gag. Instantly, Sherlock let go and turned his head aside, biting his lip as he adjusted to the pain. At the same time, John peeked, just to make sure Mycroft was alright. He was.

"I don't know what you're complaining about," the doctor commented to Mycroft. "Would you prefer we use mouse traps? I didn't think so." He addressed his own sub, "Back to work, Sherlock!"

"But, master-" Sherlock cut off as John kicked the weight and he yelled.

"Now, brat, or I'll sit on the weights," the doctor threatened. 

Sherlock believed every word and went back to licking at his brother's balls in an attempted apology. He couldn't help but hear how his brother moaned in enjoyment. Still, he remembered his orders, and bit down. He was careful to bite down just hard enough to be uncomfortable and cause Mycroft's moans of pleasure to change to indrawn breaths of pain, but he didn't want to push too hard. Neither of the Holmeses had any idea how long this new dominance situation would last. Sherlock didn't want to go too far incase it was a long time.

Greg cocked his head to the side. "I think your slave is being too gentle. Do you mind?" He gestured towards Sherlock's arse. "I'd like to give him a little incentive."

John stepped out of the way. "Be my guest."

Grinning, the DCI stepped around and gave the detective's arse a smack with the palm of his hand. "I want to see Mycroft squirm!"

Before he knew what he had done Sherlock had stopped licking his brother's bollocks and looked over his shoulder. "Hit him then!" he snapped.

The doctor snatched the detective by the curls and bent his his head back at an awkward angle. "What did you say?"

Sherlock realised he had made a mistake of monumental proportions. "Master, I didn't mean it. I'm sorry."

"Yes you are, but not sorry enough. Do you want another enema?"

"No, master, no. I'm sorry."

John nodded once, not believing him for a second. "Get back to it, slave, then we'll decide what to do to you next."

Sherlock nodded, even though John's grip on his hair caused it to pull. As soon as his Dom released him, he let out a shaky breath and set to work making his brother as uncomfortable as possible. The noises Mycroft was letting out around his gag suggested the younger brother was doing a fine job at his task this time round.

Greg didn't let up on the spanking though and he watched as John retrieved a paddle. No, two paddles. He handed one to the DCI.

"We can take turns," John explained. He drew back and landed the first blow, sending Sherlock lunging forward and bumping into his brother. Greg dealt the next blow.

The detective hated to admit it as he bit into his brother's sac that he was actually enjoying this. He had watched as Mycroft had absolutely bested the DCI and now… it was almost like that, but better.

Of course, John noticed that his sub was getting hard. "Oh, but you're a filthy little boy, aren't you. Enjoying yourself like a wanton slut." He struck him particularly hard before going to fetch a cock ring.

Sherlock whimpered as his Dom snapped the ring around his cock and balls. 'No fair', he thought to himself, but he daren't speak it. Not after his last little slip up.

"What do you think we should do with them next?" The doctor asked.

"Let's let Mycroft pick, but keep the mask on. We'll see how good his memory is." Greg led his sub to the middle of the room. It was a struggle for Mycroft as he still had the humbler on. The DCI turned him around in circles several times. "Go, slave. Pick out something for us to use on you both."

Mycroft tried to focus his head to where he was, but he just couldn't picture it. He decided on just crawling forward and seeing where it took him. He was so oblivious to where he was in the room that he crawled forward and collided with the shelves on the wall. That combined with the shower of dildos on his head gave him a good idea of where he was. He was about to move to the side and make his selection, when the DCI pulled him back.

"Excellent idea." Greg picked up two of the larger dildos and tossed them to John. "Though I don't think that counts as picking something out. Try again, slave."

Mycroft wanted to speak… wanted to…

"Now!" Greg barked.

The government official actually flinched, but he began to move. Since it was one of those days, he fancied using something he doubted Greg had even seen before and only he had ever used on a sub once. As he crawled to where he assumed his Dom was with his prize in his hand, Greg plucked the gag from his mouth. Mycroft choked momentarily, but puffed out, "Thank you, master."

"Is this some kind of a joke?"

"No, master," Mycroft spoke to the dark.

He heard John growl 'stay' at his brother and then his head was snapped back by the doctor. "That is something that I would never have expected Mycroft to be into."

Greg shoved the doctor playfully. "Talk."

"It's a full body harness."

The DCI made a surprised sound. "And who do you intend it for?"

"I... Sir, I..."

Mycroft couldn't seem to say the words, but Greg knew. "Well, aren't you full of surprises."

John had found a second harness. "With this, we could have a matched set of sex slaves."

Sherlock, who could actually see, looked over. He knew what John's look was asking. He inclined his head and nodded once. It should be a laugh.

"Right then, come here Holmes 2."

The detective crawled over to John, the weighted chain swaying and causing the clamps to pull at his bollocks. He held his breath when his Dom reached down to remove the clamps, knowing full well it would hurt like hell when he did. He wasn't wrong. He whimpered, but he didn't form any actual words.

"Good," John praised him. "Now get next to the naughty slave."

Sherlock joined his brother, excitement thrumming through him. Idly, he wondered if Mycroft was as aroused as he was. His arousal ratcheted up a notch when John took off his collar only to replace it by the wide collar that went with the harness. His jaw was wedged apart with a ball gag, drool immediately making itself noticed.

The DCI gave Mycroft a second to watch Sherlock before his own collar was changed and his own gag was wedged between his teeth.

John ran his hand over the leather straps that made up the rest of the harness he was holding, then he started buckling it in place. Greg did the same with Mycroft.

The two brothers shared a glance. Despite the gags the pair were trying to grin broadly but failing. Each one was caught off guard as the dildos Greg had thrown earlier were pressed to their open holes.

Mycroft was glad to have exchanged the humbler for the harness, half his idea was to get out of it. It was less painful and more arousing, not that he was adverse to pain. He tried to slow his breathing, but he was too far gone. Mycroft panted with his arousal, but Greg noticed. He thumped in the dildo a few more times before reaching between his legs and yanking down hard on his sub's bollocks. The older sub yelled out obscenities behind his gag.

Sherlock swiftly brought his legs together in an effort to hide his erection from John. It was an enormous mistake. The doctor subjected him to the same treatment, but wasn't satisfied to stop there. He turned to the shelves and found a cock cage and waved it in front of his sub.

Sherlock tried to plead around the gag, but it was to no use. John plucked away the cock ring and began to edge the cage onto Sherlock's cock.

"Actually Greg, there's something worse than this."

The DCI nodded and smacked Mycroft on the back of the head. "Head down, brat!"

Mycroft, therefore, didn't get the chance to see what Greg was up to. He managed to work it out when Sherlock moaned even more and then yelled out.

Ice was quickly placed at the base of Sherlock's cock and it wilted at the shock. The tip of a sound was placed at the tip and eased in.

"Despite doing it before, I don't feel comfortable doing it to my own pet, mate," Greg informed the doctor, watching him press the sound into Sherlock's cock whilst the rest of the new cage surrounded it.

"It's fine, Greg, just watch me until your comfortable doing it yourself. Ice his bollocks and I'll show you."

Mycroft barely held still for the icy treatment, it didn't hurt, but it certainly curtailed his arousal. He watched as John demonstrated how to insert the sound, the strange inverted orgasmic feeling making the whole thing seem surreal. The sound of the cage clicking locked behind his balls made him whimper.

"Oh, Mycroft, don't think for one moment you don't deserve this. You haven't exactly been well behaved today."

Mycroft tried to lower his head to the floor only to find Greg's hand snagged in his hair. A small snap at the back of his collar and he found his neck chained to his arse. Ingenious! But he wouldn't say that.

Greg used the chain running from Mycroft's collar to his arse to guide him where he wanted him - in front of Sherlock. "Tend to his cock through the cage. Do a good job of it."

"Oh, shit," John interrupted. "He can't."

Greg burst out laughing and the doctor joined him. John nudged Sherlock's arse with his toe. "I want to take them on the spot," he said, nudging him again. "Damn, but they are gorgeous."


	5. A Talk

"Want to see how they perform?" Greg grinned. He grabbed a crop and tossed one to John. "Let's put them through their paces. Crop them and let them scamper around the room in front of us."

The brothers shared glances. 

Sherlock couldn't help the drool leaking from his mouth, he felt stupid, it was like the harness controlled every part of his body. All he was was a slave. 

He tried to grin but ended go slobbering more. He jerked at the smack of a crop on his arse.

Mycroft gave a start, then scrambled forward. If it hadn't been for the cock cage and sound, he knew he would have been rock hard and leaking. As it was, his balls ached something dreadful with need.

Of course the Doms noticed. 

Greg stood chuckling waving his crop up and down to make the whooshing noise behind him. He flinched every time.

"Left, boys!" John ordered with another smack of the crop. He was being careful to catch his sub's arse square on with each strike. Sherlock responded so well that he had to pause and adjust himself in his trousers. He wasn't sure how long he could keep going without some relief.

"Faster!" Greg demanded. "Go on, move! You're not yet entertaining enough for the both of us."

"We're bored!" John added.

Sherlock would have protested if it hadn't been for the gag. Bored, indeed! John caught him with a particularly hard blow and he let out a muffled yelp.

Mycroft felt a tug on the chain running down his back. And realised Greg had clipped a leash to one of the links. 

Bollocks!

The DCI pulled back on the chain, causing Mycroft to slow just enough for him to get in a spectacular blow with the riding crop, then he gave him some slack.

"Go on, catch him up," Greg demanded.

Mycroft spotted Sherlock up ahead and had to scamper to keep up. He should have been so hard it hurt.

"Woah." John called his sub to a halt. He couldn't take it a moment longer. Unbuckling the gag and letting it hang, he ordered, "Open up." He unfastened his trousers and had himself out in no time, thrusting into Sherlock's mouth.

Mycroft stopped expectantly. 

His Dom whacked him with the crop again. "When did I tell you you could stop?" He barked. 

Mycroft flinched and looked up at the younger man with worried eyes before scuffling off again, trying to avoid looking at his brother.

In his next breath, Greg ordered him to stop. Mycroft rolled his eyes and suppressed his growl of irritation. The Dom lifted Mycroft's chin with the tip of the crop.

"Watch those eyes, slave. They're going to get you into trouble.'

Mycroft couldn't help himself. He glared. 

Greg slapped him. "Enough of the attitude, slave!" He barked. "For that, keep crawling!"

Mycroft kept moving, now thoroughly confused as to what his Dom would demand next. How did Greg do that? He gave a jolt and leapt forward when the riding crop came down smartly on his arse again.

Greg didn't speak for a long while. Just continued to bring the crop down on his arse every few paces.

It was rather fun seeing the elder Holmes so off balance. "Stop. You can go backwards for a while."

Mycroft's head snapped over to look at the other man. What a random thing to… that was it, that was how Greg kept him so on edge. He didn't plot things or plan or reason. Everything was entirely random.

John had his fingers tangled in his boys hair. He was fucking Sherlock's face enthusiastically. So much so that the sub was struggling to suppress his gag reflex.

Just before it was too much, John pulled out. 

"Ok?"

"Yes, master," Sherlock replied after finally getting his breath back. 

He looked up at his Dom through wet lashes from where he had teared up more than a bit. John looked glorious, standing over him, his cock hanging out.

"Head down!" 

Sherlock obeyed immediately, he bit his lip to stop from speaking.

"Lower!" John snapped. 

The sub lowered his forehead to the floor, his arse stuck in the air. John kicked it. Then prodded his filled hole with his toe. This time, Sherlock did whimper. "Aw, does that hurt, boy?"

"No, master," Sherlock whispered. 

The doctor paced around him twice, before walking towards the other men and ignoring his boy. 

Greg ordered Mycroft to stop. The DCI raised one foot and rested it on his sub's arse. "How's yours doing?" he asked, looking over John's shoulder.

"Behaving."

"Mines not."

Mycroft's head snapped up to look at him. Greg glared him down until he averted his gaze. He wanted to argue that he'd been good. He'd done everything Greg had demanded. Mycroft felt so bad, that he started shaking, near tears.

"Stay," Greg ordered. 

Together the pair went to the door. 

When the Doms returned, with two mugs of tea in their hands they found neither of the subs hadn't moved an inch, both frozen still, despite the difficult positions they'd been left in.

John set his mugs down and called Sherlock over to kneel in front of him as he took a seat. "Go ahead, you can drink it yourself, you've earned a small break."

"You, slave, come kneel at my feet." Greg sat and, when Mycroft knelt before him, he noticed unshed tears in his eyes. Immediately, he unbucked the gag amd tossed it aside. "Are you ok?" the Dom checked with his sub.

Mycroft found he couldn't answer. 

Greg pulled him up into his lap and held him, offering him tea to calm him. "You know what this is about," Greg continued.

"It's working, sir - Master, honest."

The DCI inclined his head. "Honestly?"

"Yes, master. I prefer it like his."

"Then why the tears?" 

Mycroft's hackles were up immediately and he dropped the mug to the floor. "I'm not crying!"

Greg ignored the fallen mug and lifted a cup of tea to his sub's lips. "Drink." Something wasn't right and he intended to find out what it was.

Mycroft just glared at the mug he had dropped. 

"Mycroft?"

"No."

"Get on the floor then."

The government official slipped from Greg's lap and onto the floor. He looked away, not wanting to meet the DCI's eyes. He wasn't sure what he was feeling.

The DCI stood up and walked over to the other pair. Sherlock was sat, sipping his tea, it could almost be said he was being 'good'. 

"What's wrong with your brother."

"He's in a bad mood, master."

"Why?"

"Because he keeps messing up."

Greg glanced over at his sub. Really? "That's it?!"

"I... Sir, I... Yes." Mycroft dropped his chin to his chest. He hated how he felt and he hated how the others could see it, especially his brother. 

The DCI scrubbed the back of his neck as he tried to decide whether to press on or to stop things immediately. He stepped forward and decided he'd let Mycroft choose. "What do you want, right now? Speak."

Mycroft didn't know what to say, but Sherlock did. 

"He doesn't want the playing to stop. He just wants to talk about it. For a moment. Sir."

Greg and John exchanged looks.

"Let's call a time out from playing then," the doctor suggested. He ran a hand absently through Sherlock's curls. "And you can keep helping if you need to."

Greg went and offered Mycroft a hand up. "You hear that? We're going to talk for a bit. Alright?"

Mycroft continued staring at the floor and didn't move. Greg sighed. He grabbed him by his collar and pulled him upright, wrapping his arms around him. 

"Sit there, John could you go and grab another cup of tea? The kettle should still be warm."

Sherlock wanted to go to his brother and offer comfort. He was intimately familiar with the feeling of having dissapointed his Dom. Still he thought there was more to Mycroft's upset. Greg was a good Dom, he'd figure out what it was.

Sherlock went with the doctor to get the tea and followed him back to the others. He sat on the edge of the seat and tried to encourage Mycroft to join him.

The government official refused to move at first, but he eventually let himself be coaxed into sitting by his brother. Sherlock edged closer to him until they were almost touching. 

"You have to tell me what's really wrong if I'm to fix it," Greg said quietly. "And I don't think it's just that you've made a few mistakes."

"I like this," Mycroft responded at last. 

"Yes, you've said." Greg, himself was getting worked up with the game his sub seemed to be playing. "Keep going," he ordered.

Mycroft looked around everywhere, his eyes settling on his brother. He could see that his brother knew. It was too humiliating... He wasn't about to let Sherlock speak for him again. He took a deep breath. "I like what we're doing, just not the names. Not me calling you master or you calling me slave."

Sherlock looked away, almost sheepishly. 

"Sherlock?" John questioned. 

"He's right," he replied softly. "I like the… new way. But he's right about that."

The two Doms exchanged glances, unnerved.

"Are you both sure," John asked. "We've been very strict with you. Too strict, maybe?"

"No!" both subs said together.

Mycroft continued. "I promise you, I like it... It gives me a challenge."

"You just don't like being called a slave?"

"I don't mind being a slave. I just don't… yeah."

"That makes no sense." Greg threw his hands up in the air.

John thought that maybe it did. "I think I get it. It makes it seem too real. Is that it?"

His own sub chimed in. "That's it, sir. I know all I have to do is use my safe word, but I don't feel free to somehow when you call me your slave."

Greg was hoping he was understanding, but not entirely sure. "Why do you like the 'new way'?"

"I told you, it gives me more of a challenge," Mycroft said.

"But you were getting frustrated." Greg placed a hand on his sub's shoulder. 

"It was too much, combined with the names."

"I think we should stop playing, "Greg responded. 

"What?" Mycroft argued. 

Both brothers went "No!" Again.

The DCI paced a few moments, working himself up. John put a stop to it with a few brief words. "Greg! Enough!"

Greg snapped around and stared at John, his more submissive side coming to the fore as he lowered his gaze. 

"We can keep playing, but we won't use slave or master and you and I will be extra vigilant for our boys' mental state."

"I'm fine!" Sherlock snapped. 

This time it was John who was annoyed. "Right! Corner, boy!"

"But-"

"Now!" John barked.

Sherlock scrambled for the corner. Clearly, they were still going to play. He knelt in the small space with perfect posture.

Greg glanced at his own sub who had his head as low as possible. 

"Good talk," he said nudging Mycroft's arse with his toe.

The government official grunted, but he was glad to be moving from the discussion and on to play again. He relaxed even more when his Dom pressed him forward so that his chest was on the floor.

"Good boy," the DCI praised.

Mycroft decided he would much rather be where he was than in the corner. That would most definitely be boring.


	6. Pushing the Limits

Greg decided his sub would benefit from a bit of bondage. The DCI always found it comforting himself. "Don't move. I'm fetching the rope."

Mycroft didn't know if he liked the sound of that or not. A thud across the room made him look up, he looked up to see his brother being pulled from the corner by his curls. It was also in time to see Greg turn around. Bollocks!

"Boy!" The DCI snapped. "Eyes down!" He grabbed the flogger and a mask along with the rope.

At the same time, John dragged his sub across the room and up over a padded bench.

The brothers had a brief second to share glances before they were taken in separate ways. 

"Hands behind your head," the older Dom ordered.

Greg took the time to bind his sub's hands in place, then he set the rest of the rope aside for the moment. Using the flogger, he directed Mycroft to spread his legs, then he began caressing his bollocks with the flogger.

Mycroft struggled to keep his mouth shut, but he managed it. Just. The harness was enough to remind him he could be made to walk around the room like a dog again at any moment. 

"By all means, make noise, boy. I like hearing you squeal."

"Yes, sir." Mycroft let himself go and moaned because the teasing caress of the flogger wasn't enough.

Greg pulled back and let the flogger come down, pleased with the yelp that his boy made.

Sherlock wanted to watch his brother, but John's hand was pressing his head into the bench. The Dom knew him too well. He bent over his sub and spoke into his ear. "I'm proud of you for speaking up for your brother. That doesn't mean I'm going to allow you to misbehave. And I still haven't come in either that mouth or your arse." He licked Sherlock's neck and drew back.

"By all means, do."

John smirked and tugged at his curls. "You're being too full of yourself, aren't you?"

"That's not what I want to be full of."

"Of all the cheek…" The doctor gave his sub a swat on the arse. "Maybe I won't. Maybe I'll ask to borrow your brother instead."

"But-" Sherlock's head snapped up and John smacked his arse, harder this time, over the plug. 

"You asked for no master/slave, you said you liked the strictness."

"Yes, sir." Sherlock started to say something else, but gasped instead as the plug filling him was suddenly removed and two fingers plunged into his hole. "Argh!" 

At that John laughed. "I never gave you the same instruction that Greg gave his sub."

Sherlock bit his lip. How was he supposed to keep quiet with John doing such things to him? His dom pushed his fingers in further, probing, until he found his prostate and began poking it. Sherlock bit his lip. It was the only way he knew how to stop from making any noise. 

John grinned as he worked his fingers in and out.

Though he managed to keep quiet, the detective couldn't keep from squirming on his Dom's fingers. He pushed back wanting more.

John chuckled this time. "Behave!" He ordered. 

The detective couldn't hold in the whimper this time. 

"Ah, ah, be quiet."

Sherlock nodded and squeezed his eyes shut to try to help himself keep quiet, but John didn't play fair. The Dom kept teasing his prostate and, with his other hand, started playing with his bollocks, knowing the cage would stop any pleasurable reaction. 

Mycroft heard his brother grumbling and he knew what was going on without looking. It was a good job too, since Greg had forced a blindfold over his head. The flogger fell a few more times over the government official's arse, then it stopped. He wanted to know what was happening, but had to wait until his Dom made his next move.

It was amazing that they got to carry on. He'd been worried if he'd said what he really thought he'd end up in trouble. As a slave. He should have known the Doms wouldn't be like that.

Greg knelt down behind Mycroft and wrapped his arms around him. As he teased his sub's nipples, he began to rut against his arse.

Mycroft wanted to see what was going on, had to see what was going on. He tried to open his eyes to see but he couldn't despite all efforts

Greg eased the plug from his sub and tested his entrance with his fingers. Mycroft was stretched well and his hole was sloppy with lube. The DCI grinned to himself and plunged his cock into his sub's entrance. He stood completely still, seeing if he'd get the response he wanted. 

Mycroft shifted and fought trying to get more touch. 

"Boy!" Greg yelled.

"Sorry, sir."

The DCI kept thrusting against him, determined to take his pleasure. He intended to enjoy his boy more than once.

John was quite happily tugging at Sherlock's balls. Pulling here, twisting there. It was mightily enjoyable. Especially as he watched Sherlock trying his hardest to hold his tongue. His boy was so loose and so near to losing his self control that John couldn't resist. He added a third finger to Sherlock's hole.

The detective couldn't hold back a whimper nor could he keep from trying to thrust back on John's hand. He desperately wanted more and he wanted it now.

John glanced over towards the DCI and laughed at the fact he was already balls deep inside his sub. "You couldn't have waited?"

"Oh, trust me, this isn't the only time my cock is going in his arse today."

With a laugh, John pulled his fingers from Sherlock's hole. "I am suddenly inspired." He thrust his cock into his sub's willing body. "Don't even think about coming."

That was the blow Sherlock had been hoping wouldn't come. The cage would prevent him anyway. "But-"

"Oh, boy, shut it. I can gag you if you like?"

The detective almost asked for a gag, so deep was his frustration. He knew that when he eventually got to come, it would be bliss, but this teetering on the edge was starting to get to him. He reminded himself this was what he wanted. He and his brother. 

"Get out of your Mind Palace, Sherlock, you want to enjoy this. Or I might not let you come at all."

Ridiculous. He was enjoying it, as mad as that seemed at the moment. Christ, it felt so good having John's cock inside of him, pounding, prodding, causing electric jolts of pleasure to roll through him. But there was no final satisfaction. At least none for the detective. As John grunted and groaned through his orgasm, he realised that he was the only one out of the two that wasn't fully satisfied. He brought his hand around and grasped his own caged cock, giving it a couple of strokes through the bars whilst John recovered from his orgasm. He just needed a bit more time, a couple more strokes and hopefully he'd be able to have some form of relief even in the cage. He managed a few more, but as soon as he was on the brink John smacked him on the back of the head. 

John pulled out of his arse quickly. Tucking himself back into his jeans, he stepped around and gripped Sherlock's curls in his hand. "You just couldn't wait," John commented, giving his sub's hair a tug. “You'll be lucky if I let you come at all today."

"Like you were going to before?" 

This time John grabbed his throat and pulled him to his feet. "Say that again!"

Sherlock's hands flew to John's wrists, then he caught himself and dropped them. "Nothing, sir. Nothing."

"No, say that again."

"Like you were going to before," the sub whispered.

"I hadn't been planning on it, boy, no. But you stood up for your brother. You told me you trusted me in that and I was going to reward you. Not now. Kneel."

Sherlock dropped like his strings had been cut. His knees ached from the impact. He had been so close to getting release. Now he wouldn't get it for who knew how long and he had no one to blame but himself.

"Stay there," John growled, storming over to the other pair. 

Sherlock bowed his head, feeling incredibly stupid.

Greg had come, his body quaking with pleasure, and he had cleaned himself up as well as Mycroft. "You did good, boy. Better than your brother. He's got himself into quite a bit of trouble."

"You can get up, Mycroft," John said softly. 

The government official glanced at Greg to check he had his permission as well before he stood. 

"We can take a break," John suggested. Then get back to it if you like?"

Greg and Mycroft agreed readily. The former sat on the nearby sofa and the later curled up on it beside him.

When Sherlock started to join John on the other sofa, the Dom shook his head. "Not you. You can kneel in the corner."

"But, sir-"

"Now, Sherlock!" 

The detective actually scowled at his Dom, but crawled towards the corner.

John stretched out on the sofa and laced his fingers behind his head. It was a good job he had the next day off, he was going to be exhausted after their day of play and he had no intention of calling it short. "Put your hands behind your head, Sherlock!" John demanded, staring at the ceiling. He had no idea how he'd known his sub wouldn't have obeyed their normal corner time rules.

The detective's glare was so piercing, he almost drilled a hole through the wall before him. He had been doing so well!

Mycroft looked at his brother, feeling rather sorry for him, but he knew he daren't risk an intervention. He buried his head into Greg's lap and froze when he winced, still sensitive, obviously! "Sorry, sir," he whispered, hoping it was enough. Apparently it was as the DCI ran his hand through his hair.

Mycroft made the most decadently pleased sounds as he lay there, completely forgetting his brother's predicament for the moment. He caught Greg's hand and kissed his knuckles one by one.

He knew by now that neither of the Doms were a threat to either of them. If they were, they wouldn't be around him and even so, he would not let John near his brother if he was too… evil. He couldn't fight his brothers battles for him. And this was all play anyway. Mycroft chuckled. Even Sherlock's antics were mostly play.

"What's so funny, pet?" The DCI asked.

"I was just pondering the propensity of subs to court trouble on purpose. You've done it, sir, as have I and-" Mycroft pointed to his brother.

"I haven't," John managed to say, but the comment made Sherlock turn around. Despite strict instructions. 

"Boy!" John barked.

Mycroft and Greg were gaping at the doctor.


	7. Community Property

It was the DCI who finally spoke up. "But you're a Dom. You're not a switch. It doesn't even apply to you."

John laughed. "Oh I know. I just wondered what his reaction would be." He pushed himself to his feet and paced towards Sherlock. He yanked his head back by the curls. "Find that's acceptable, do you?"

Sherlock's eyes went wide. "No, sir, no."

"Try rice and a bowl. Works every time," Greg ran his hand through Mycroft's hair.

The government official gave a visible shudder. "That was very creative, sir. And hideous."

"Hm, how do you like the sound of that, boy?" John asked his sub sweetly. Sherlock's head shook so John tightened his grip. "Answer me, boy!"

"No, sir! No, I don't, sir, honest."

John laughed. He knew such a task would drive his pet absolutely mad. "Alright, then. Something else... I know. I'd like more grapes. Thinly sliced, if you please. Run along."

Sherlock actually waited patiently until the Dom let go of his hair, which surprised the doctor. The sub normally would have just pulled away.

Sherlock glanced pointedly at the older one.

"Oh no, boy, you can do this yourself."

"We'll have some grapes too," he DCI added, his hand still in Mycroft's hair.

Sherlock crawled off, his arms and knees jerking with annoyance as he moved. Once he had left the room, John started laughing. "He's lucky I didn't tell him to peel them first!" He collapsed back on the sofa, still chuckling.

Greg shook his head. "Is it even possible to slice grapes?"

"We'll soon find out."

The doctor glanced towards Mycroft. "You two are like a pair of yoyos. One second you're the brat, the next he is."

"Mm, yes, sir." The government official closed his eyes and took the moment to rest. He hadn't forgotten his Dom's promise to use him again before the day was over.

Sherlock was taking so long that John sighed.

"He's up to something, sir," Mycroft offered.

"Bloody brat." John pushed himself to his feet and went off in search of his sub.

What he found was a very frustrated detective trying to slice grapes. Every time he tried, the grape shot across the cutting board and Sherlock had to chase it down. He'd managed to slice two complete grapes. John covered his mouth to keep from laughing aloud.

"What's taking so long, boy?"

"What does it look like?"

John leant over to smack him on the back of the head. "Kneel."

Sherlock dropped to his knees with a thud. At the same time, the Dom picked up the grape slices and ate them in one go. He made a show of tasting them and testing the texture. "On second though, just pull them off the stems and fill up a couple of bowls. We'll eat them that way." He stayed to watch his boy work, making sure he didn't stand.

It was difficult for Sherlock because, despite his height, usually being on his knees meant he could only just see over the counter top. Of course, he knew that was the point. At least John had relented on the other ridiculous task. He could have been stuck here for an hour trying to slice the little buggers.

Content there was enough in the bowls, John ordered the detective to take hold of them and then grabbed him by the curls. He began to pull him towards the others.

Sherlock balanced the bowls gracefully, not dropping a single grape. Mycroft still had his eyes shut, but Greg noticed the grapes were whole. "I take it there were problems?"

"Don't ask," John chuckled.

"Hey!" Sherlock grumbled.

John smacked him again and he ducked his head.

"I'm sorry, sir."

John took one of the bowls and handed it to Greg. He took the other one for himself and dragged Sherlock over to the sofa. He turned him so that when he sat, he could run his fingernails over his sub's back. He reached behind the cushion and pulled out a pair of cuffs. He snapped them around Sherlock's wrists. It made a pretty picture with the harness wrapped around him too.

"Now turn around."

As soon as he had managed it John pushed a grape into his mouth. It tasted good, confound it all. Against his will, Sherlock found himself relaxing into his position, kneeling and cuffed as he was.

John placed his hand at Sherlock's throat and tipped his head back. "Have you calmed down now?"

"Yes, sir."

"You're not going to raise your voice at me again, are you?"

"No, sir."

John reached down and bodily picked up his sub, sitting him on his lap. "As soon as these grapes are gone, we're getting back to it." The Dom poked another grape between Sherlock's lips.

"Yes, sir."

"Good."

Sherlock looked over at his brother. He looked comfortable, but more importantly he looked like he'd been comfortable for a while.

Soon enough, the grapes had disappeared and John crushed his lips to Sherlock's in a bruising kiss that soon had the sub melting in his Dom's arms.

With a glance at each other, the Doms nodded.

"Back on the floor, boys," Greg ordered.

John helped his boy back to the floor, with one last kiss for his pink lips.

Mycroft crawled down on his own.

The doctor held Sherlock's mug to his lips whereas Greg just passed his sub's down.

"You can uncuff me, you know," the detective pointed out.

"Oh, I can, can I?" John asked.

Sighing, the sub dropped his head. "Sorry, sir."

Mycroft thought that apology had come a bit too easy. Apparently so did John.

"Whatever you're planning, I expect a bit of ginger will make you think twice." John stood and fetched the ginger himself, returning with it already carved into the shape of a plug.

"Sir-"

"Shut it." John put his mug on the side and pushed him down, until his face pressed into the floor and his arse was in the air. "You seem to have forgotten how this works, boy! You spoke to us, said you didn't like the slave/master side of things, but you wanted how it was just before that to continue. You seem to have forgotten that!"

"Sir, I'm sorry."

"No, you're not."

Well, that was the simple truth. Sherlock's arousal had skyrocketed since John had manhandled him onto his chest and face. As the plug of ginger was worked into his hole, he felt his cock give a throb.

"I can soon tie that up if you can't control it, boy!"

"But-"

John smacked his arse. "No! I've already told you you're not coming today. That hasn't changed. Now keep that mouth of yours shut or I will punish you."

If he had thought he had a chance of influencing his punishment, Sherlock might have risked it, but he clamped his mouth shut tight. He had a feeling he'd need to beg for clemency before the evening was over so aroused did he feel already.

"Is that ginger tingling yet?" John asked in a deceptively sweet voice.

Sherlock tried not to wriggle gis hips, but it was useless, the ginger had indeed started to burn. "Yes, sir," he hissed.

"Good." The Dom started spanking him with the palm of his hand, every strike hitting the end of the ginger root.

Every thump had Sherlock squeeze his eyes shut. Sometimes John would do a burst of 4 or 5 strikes on his arse, and the next he would leave a long gap in between so the burn became his only focus. Infuriatingly, his cock seemed to enjoy the entire ordeal and John... John always chose the worst moments to be observant.

"I told you I could tie that up if I have to, the cage is obviously not constricting enough for you," the Dom indicated Sherlock's twitching cock and conceded he maybe needed a smaller cage.

"John-"

His next strike was twice as hard and John pushed him to the floor. "I think I will do that right now."

"No, John! Please!"

"What did you say?" John asked, a hint of danger in his voice.

"Ah. Nothing, sir. I apologise for my outburst."

"Of course you do."

John moved to find some rope, but Greg had already found some for him. The DCI held it out, smiling lopsidedly.

"Why, thank you."

"I had a feeling you would need it."

Sherlock shot Greg a heated glare.

"Boy, tell the nice DCI thank you," John ordered, on the verge of the giggles.

"Thank you. Sir," the sub said begrudgingly, not taking his eyes off the rope that was now in John's hands.

"I think Mycroft should do it to you," John said folding his arms.

"Or me?" Greg suggested.

"Why don't we take it in turns to tie it up?"

"It's not community property," Sherlock complained, cupping his cock protectively.

John laughed and removed it from the cage then he uncuffed his wrists so his boy could rub them. "Babe, you're in a relationship with a Dom and have consented to play with two switches. Community property is exactly what it is."

Sherlock got to his feet and stepped up. "Greg, when you do that whole police thing of yours it turns me on."

The DCI laughed. "Sure."

When Sherlock turned to take off out of the room Greg was there in a split second. He charged at him and rugby tackled him to the floor. The thrashing detective was soon face down, one knee between his legs and his arms pulled back behind him.

"Tie his arms," Greg barked, the 'again' was silent, but John was already moving to do so. Together, they had his arms restrained behind him again in almost no time. The DCI rolled him over. "Mycroft, want to get in on the fun? Come tie up his balls and cock."

"Pick on Sherlock day, is it?" The detective asked. He'd only just got it properly free.

"It's follow the rule day!" John snapped. "Mycroft, get a move on!"

"Yes, sir, sorry, sir." The government official hurried forward. Despite the short display it was obvious the new way of the relationships between them hadn't changed. Mycroft did a very nice job of tying up Sherlock's package. For show, he even finished it off with a little bow just at the base of his brother's cock.

"Very good, boy." Greg leant over and shoved him back. Mycroft fell back on his arse. "Kneel there and wait."

"Yes, sir." Mycroft got up to his knees and lowered his head.

John used Sherlock's prettily tied cock to drag him up to his own knees.

"Now, how's that bit of ginger feeling?" John asked almost conversationly. "It hasn't fallen out or anything dreadful like that?"

"No, sir."

"Good. Don't you think?"

"Yes, sir." Sherlock whimpered as he felt the burn increase because he was thinking about it.


	8. Too Tired to Fight

Reaching out, John took hold of one off his pet's nipples. He used it like a handle to guide Sherlock closer. "Tell me pet, do these feel neglected?"

Sherlock blinked dumbly. "Yes, sir… I suppose."

"You suppose?"

"Sir, I-" he shrugged. It was the only part of him that had nothing to do with the harness.

John twisted both of them, causing Sherlock to yelp. "Oh, yes. They've definitely been neglected."

"Sir, they don't need-"

John pressed his finger to Sherlock's lips. "Shut it, boy," he snapped.

The detective bowed his head.

"Greg, could I borrow Mycroft? I'd like him to suck on these and bite them until they're too sensitive to touch."

Greg nodded. "Of course, mate. Boy, you heard the man, get your arse over there and do as you are told."

"Yes, sir," Mycroft quickly joined the younger couple.

The elder Holmes didn't hesitate to suck on Sherlock's left nipple. He teased it with his teeth, then bit down just a bit too hard, causing the younger sub to yelp again.

The most Sherlock could do was buck, that was until John had knelt behind him and held him tightly, keeping him still.

Mycroft couldn't help but smile, the Dom in him enjoyed what he was doing. He sucked and nibbled at the hard little nub in his mouth until Sherlock was sobbing, then he switched to the other one.

Sherlock renewed his struggling, determined not to be pinned down like a sitting duck.

It didn't take much persuading for Greg to kneel beside John and help hold him still.

That was better. Sherlock revelled in the feeling of being overpowered. He didn't hear himself sobbing as Mycroft worked him over relentlessly. The two Doms were holding him down so strongly he was surprised he didn't disappear through the floor.

"Alright Mycroft, enough!" John ordered. "On your knees!"

The older sub sat back on his knees, almost regretting his current position as a sub. It had been delightful wringing those sounds from his brother. Still, he tried to school his face so it didn't show.

Greg stood up after releasing Sherlock. He took a few steps, closing the gap between one Holmes and the other. Then he pushed his hand into Mycroft's hair and tugged his head back. "You enjoyed that, didn't you, boy?

"I-"

Greg tugged his hair harder.

"Yes, sir. Very much, sir."

"I thought so." The DCI slapped him with his free hand.

Mycroft took it all the while glaring at his brother.

"This isn't his fault!" Greg snapped at him. "Does he look like he made that easy?" He added when Sherlock started fighting again.

"No, sir," Mycroft admitted begrudgingly. "Sorry, sir."

"I should think so." Greg grabbed a strap on Mycroft's harness and dragged him across the room.

Mycroft let out a grunt as Greg shoved him over. He fell to his side and glanced up at the Dom, trying his hardest not to glare.

Greg folded his arms and watched him, hearing John growling with Sherlock trying to keep him still almost made him laugh.

Mycroft remained perfectly still except he chewed at his bottom lip to make himself keep silent. Greg reached out and pulled his sub's lips from between his teeth. "There'll be none of that. Open like a good boy."

Mycroft huffed a breath out through his nose, then opened his mouth. Greg soon shoved his fingers into his sub's mouth and ordered, "Suck, boy."

Mycroft didn't see that he had much choice, given the position of his fingers.

Greg began to scissor his fingers inside his mouth. "Keep sucking, Mycroft!" He ordered when the government official tried pulling free.

After a moment, Greg grabbed his sub's tongue and didn't let go. "This is such a lovely tongue, very talented. I want it between my legs and it had best do the best job of pleasuring me that it has ever done."

Mycroft nodded and made himself gag.

Across the room, Sherlock was smirking. John was insisting on being as rough as he could, holding him by the curls to drag him around.

Greg lay back on a bench and spread his legs. When Mycroft took up position between them, the Dom grasped him painfully by the hair again and pulled his sub's face down against his bollocks.

Sherlock glared up at John as he grabbed him by the chin.

"You up for a fight, are you, boy?"

His words only intensified Sherlock's glare. "It's hardly a fair fight, with me cuffed, is it?"

"I never said it was." John flipped Sherlock over and roughly removed the bit of ginger from his hole. John could handle a little burn, so he immediately plunged into his sub's entrance, pounding into him none too gently. "Is this..." Thrust. "What you..." Thrust. "Wanted?" John drove into him so hard that his sub cried out his name.

"Oh behave," John ordered. He gripped His sub's wrists and pushed them up his back. "Am I winning yet, boy?" He growled low in his throat.

"Sir!" Sherlock cried out on John's next thrust, his breath forced out of him in a rush. "Yes, sir!" His Dom was being magnificently rough and commanding. He felt like he might be ripped in two from the force John was using and it was wonderful. He'd feel the ache from this session for days. But then John pulled out.

Sherlock's head snapped around to look over his shoulder. John's grin was evil and Sherlock sighed, but he could have cried quite easily.

The doctor started stroking himself as Sherlock watched. "What makes you think I would come inside you, boy?" He sat on the detective's thighs to keep him in place. "I don't think you deserve that, do you?" He pumped himself a little harder, his face twisting up in pleasure.

"Sir!" He moaned angrily. He tried stamping his feet with the doctor on his lap.

"Ah ah, Sherlock, behave or I'll get the cane out."

"I don't want the cane! I want your cock... sir!"

John slapped Sherlock's hip with his free hand. "Keep that up and I guarantee you won't be getting my cock."

"I won't get your cock anyway!" Sherlock countered.

"Greg, I have a problem with my brat!" John called off across the room.

"Sorry, mate, busy." Greg had his head thrown back and Mycroft had his face buried in his arse, rimming him.

"I will not be responsible for damage done to your brother, Mycroft Holmes, if you do not stop right now."

Mycroft sat back on his heels, a look of concern on his face.

"Really, John? Is he being-" Greg sat up and looked in the other couple's direction. "Fuck!" He darted over and grabbed Sherlock by the shoulders.

"Get off!" Sherlock yelled, suddenly deciding he didn't want to be held at all.

Together the two Doms pulled Sherlock off the bench he had been pressed across and had him down on the floor.

"The cane, Mycroft, bring it to me," John ordered. "And hurry."

The elder Holmes rushed to get it and brought it back immediately, feeling only slightly sorry for his brother.

"Fuck off!" Sherlock yelled.

"Bloody hell," the DCI enforced his grip even more. "What the fuck has gotten into you?" He asked glancing at John who was weighing the cane in his hand.

"Turn him arse up. Mycroft, you help." The moment Sherlock's arse was in the air, John brought the cane down hard enough to get his attention.

The detective froze.

"Oh, that caught your precious attention then, did it?"

"Sir! Yes, sir," he puffed when John brought it down for a second time.

Sherlock tried to relax and let the blows fall as they would, but they bloody hurt. He tensed up his muscles and writhed as his arse was pummelled.

"You moving is not making me want to stop, boy!" John barked.

Greg shifted around where he had been and pressed one foot to the back of his neck and pulled his wrists up further.

Finally, exhausted, Sherlock went limp. Tears were streaming down his face from the pain in his arse.

"Are you done with the back talk, boy?" John asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Going to continue fighting us?"

"No, sir."

John threw the cane down and then straightened up. Greg still held him. "Oh? Why not?"

"You're both in charge, sirs. And... I'm exhausted," he said honestly. "I don't think I can fight you sirs," he puffed out, then pressed his cheek to the floor.

"I don't care how tired you are. That's your own bloody fault!"

"Yes, sir," he puffed when Greg pressed his head down a little bit more.

The best Sherlock could hope for now was to catch his breath when he had the opportunity. He didn't try to deduce what was about to happen next. If he knew, it might overwhelm him.

Mycroft stood staring down at him until Greg realised.

"Oi! Get on your knees."

Mycroft looked surprised for about half a second before he dropped to the floor, his hands settling on the back of his neck.

John crouched and ran a finger along each welt, eliciting hisses and moans from his sub. He looked over at Mycroft. "Come kiss them well, and be gentle."

Sherlock stayed incredibly still as Mycroft shuffled forward. He didn't want to screw up again and make John pick up the cane once more from wherever he had thrown it.

Mycroft's lips stung at first, then they became soothing. Sherlock could feel himself drifting, but he seemed helpless to stop. He let his eyes fall shut and soon he was snoring softly.

It was Greg that noticed Sherlock wasn't in the land of the awake anymore.

"Um… boys, he's out of it," he was smirking as he spoke.

"There is absolutely no w-" John broke off when he heard his sub's snores. "Okay, Mycroft, you can stop. I guess he meant it when he said he was too tired to fight us anymore." The doctor was looking at him fondly. "But we can't let him sleep with his arms and bits trussed up."

"His arms, maybe not, but his bits. I think he'll thank us for not waking up rock hard."

Mycroft laughed at his Dom until he glared at him. "I could do the same to you."

"Sorry, sir," the government official said quickly enough.

Together, Greg and John freed Sherlock's arms and rolled him over. He kept snoring blissfully. The doctor scooped him up and carried him from the play room towards their bedroom.

"Bed time for you too, I think," Greg smiled at his own sub. "And you will be sleeping Mycroft."

"Yeah. Yes, sir. I think you're probably right."


End file.
